What I learnt from you
by FlightyGirl
Summary: Edward breaks Bellas heart. This is what I think she'd put as a diary entry.. AH, short story fic.


_**Just a little something purely because I've never uploaded a finished piece and because I may or may not be overly emotional right now.**_

_**Disclaimer: not mine, yada, yada, yada.. **_

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What I learnt from you.

One of the things I learnt from my time with you, was that tears make my skin soft. Like unbelievably, soft. It shouldn't be the first thing I remember from you, but it's the most vivid. I should be talking about the time you took me to the beach and I got sun stroke, that was fun. Or the time I got too drunk and you gave me your shoes to wear on the way home. But things like that didn't happen very often, so I'll stick with the tears.

I think it's love, if it wasn't, I wouldn't still be crying, right?

I know it's silly, but it hurts that you actually took the time to un-friend me on facebook. Like most modern couples, that's where most of our memories are. Like, you just completely disregarded a massive moment of my life, without a care. I think that's what hurts most, not that you did it, but that you did it so easily.

I'm not the one that's wrong, you didn't have to hurt me so much, turn a blindside to it, too. If you didn't want me, didn't want us, you should've said, should've told me. I predicted you'd do this. First sign of trouble, and you'd bolt, that's what I thought. Way back when you first did this, I thought it then, too. I tried to tell myself not to buy into anything that left your mouth, tried and tried. It's not going to be a regular thing. This is the last time.

Nearly two years ago was when I met you. All height and deep voice. Not quite handsome, but unique, definitely not like all the boys my age that never seemed to grow facial hair. I thought you were quite something. You were sarcastic and funny, despite your looming figure you made me feel safe. I still laugh at the time, at work, when you picked me up and put me on a shelf in the stock cupboard. Should be offended, but I remember I couldn't stop laughing at the time.

You were serious, so serious. Still are. But it was welcomed from the others, they were too immature. But thinking now, maybe you needed that as well. Maybe I needed that. A lot of the good things I remember were part of the flirting we did at work. Things changed after we became 'official'. You didn't spend as much time around me as I thought you would. You didn't even flirt with me as much, toned that right down. It hurt, even back then, but I was smitten, though it'd change. We were just getting to know each other, I couldn't expect you to just roll over and be mine, irrevocably. I had to wait. So I did.

Things didn't move very fast. I started to get impatient. That was our first problem. I kept thinking that we should be at the next stage. But we weren't. It felt like you were holding me back, holding us back. Almost as if you knew we weren't going to make it.

That first time, when you broke me, you told me I annoyed you. I annoyed you with everything I did, everything I said. That hurt. You knew that, did it on purpose. I think you did it on purpose. You never talked about it, I couldn't bring it up, never could, never would. You told me that it was all me, not you. A cliché, but not the way its supposed to be. I think it was you. Of course, its never the individual whose perspective its in, but I digress.

You knew what you were doing. I was 18, still very hormonal, all over the place. You were a slightly better 22. But serious, more serious. I thought that would've been a good thing. Guess I was proved wrong. Surprise, surprise. Naive. that's what my mum would say. That I was just naive. But I wasn't, I was just hoping, dreaming. You could've been perfect. You ticked all of my shallow boxes. And almost all of my sincere ones too.

You're horrible, I realise that now. You're horrible, angry and volatile. Although, I will admit, you never raised a hand to me, I'll never tell anyone you did, there were times I feared you would. You're over a foot taller than my 5'2", its disconcerting hearing you yell in that voice, let alone when it's directed at me. Our personalities don't mix, they clash, bang, wallop. I'm shy, sensitive and incredibly stubborn and opinionated. You're loud, just as stubborn, more opinionated and a bit irrational.

I wouldn't do it again, I couldn't do it again. Feeling this, it's horrible, black. Its seeping cancer through my veins, it's muscle spasm that I cant control. It's tears I cant stop and wont stop because that feels better. It's a relief, if only for a small while, when they stop. It feels good, when they run down my face. It reminds me of why I wont go back, not this time, even if you ask. I will not do it. It's not good and I refuse to be my mum while you turn into my dad, what's worse, your dad.

I'll stick to my fuck you music, my anger towards you and my hatred to turn into my mum. I'll remember all that, then maybe one day I'll get over you and what we shared. But first, my friends are here. They are taking me out. I'm gonna' get drunk, kiss as many guys as I want. I'm not going to talk about you once. I'm not going to cry tonight. I'm going to make myself look pretty, I'm going to put on my favourite red dress, my best heels. Style my hair down my back, it nearly reaches my butt now - bout time it grew.

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"so, where we going first?" Rose asked first, sitting at the vanity in the corner of the room. She's painting her lips purple.

"Khode? Maybe, it's new, we haven't been there before. And you don't have to pay an arm and a leg to get in" shouts Alice, that girl only has two volumes, loud and lions roar. Sounds like the best idea, I have none, Rose doesn't actually care, as long as she gets drunk.

"I don't mind" I say, cause I don't. I feel good. Started on the Jeiger bout an hour ago, been going steady with it. Cradling the bottle between my legs after each sip so these thieving bitches don't get it. I'm in my skin tight red dress, showing my legs and collar bones, leaving the rest for the imagination. My leopard print heels adorn my feet, making me 5'8", god I love shoes. Lips painted red, check, hair perfected by the beauticians, check, attitude for a good time, check.

Bout to get over him.

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_**Very little, see. Sorry If I got your hopes up. Aaand, I hope you enjoyed my venting :) thanks.**_


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